Digesting Lamb's Brain
It's a minute to midnight as I carefully raise myself; red from the pleasantly blistering tub. I smirk at my naked body, misty in the mirror, and think I look good. Cooked, like a meal. I carefully swab the water out of my ears with a Q-Tip and lightly wonder what other ingenious uses people come up with for these handy little things. I know I use them to clean the snot out of my nose sometimes.
My temples and neck are pounding, almost visibly, or is it just my eyes throbbing too? I wonder which killed more brain cells; all the dope I smoked and the crappy beer I drank with my dad after work today, or all the time my brain spent under the blistering water while I held my breath. I can't tell if I'm sweating or if I just can't manage to dry off. I realize it must be sweat because the steam is pouring off me like I'm a boiled lamb's brain, a truly traditional Easter dinner.
As I think of the many ways I might be similar to a lamb's brain (squishy and grey, naive and impressionable) I am reminded of the fact that no one from our family has called yet to invite us for Easter, which is two days away. I don't care much, especially since I already have a date with two fourteen year old truants.
We're going to celebrate and help out at the free holiday dinner service in the next town over. Of course, the boys are going because they have to, but I tell myself I'm going because I want to, even though I guess it's only because I have to, too. It's my job. I can't admit that to myself though, so I push that thought out of my mind and breathe "Because I want to" at the spent water as I pull the plug.
I wrap up in my favorite towel and decide to chain smoke in front of our buzzing TV. I flick between the spanish channels and the Home Shopping Network, neither of which I understand, for another hour or maybe even more, I can't remember really. I sit and practice my inquisitive face at my dog, at the screen, in the mirror, even though I know I have to get up early.